


you're cold and i burn

by transkeith



Series: settle down 'verse [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Gay Keith (Voltron), Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Keith & Pidge | Katie Holt Friendship, M/M, Slice of Life, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans!Keith, Trans!pidge, allura is mentioned Briefly but she's trans too, broganes, everyone is trans fuck you, oh yeah, trans!Lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-31 22:19:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12691314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transkeith/pseuds/transkeith
Summary: “What’s your name?" he asked. "I’m Hunk. Well, I mean… that’s not myrealname, but it’s what everyone calls me. Nicknames kind of just stick, you know?”“I’m Keith,” he said, and it dimly registered in the back of his mind that it was the first time he’d said his name in a way that also wasn’t simultaneously outing himself. For all anyone else knew, Keith was the name his parents gave him, and his male-ness was an unquestioned fact. (He didn’t smile at this thought, though it took considerably more effort than usual to keep it from showing on his face.)(or: the 20th enemies to friends to lovers fic you've seen today)





	you're cold and i burn

**Author's Note:**

> sorry this one took me so long but. adhd, man.
> 
> foster care is discussed again, briefly. also, you probably don't need to read the prequel, but it helps.

It took Keith a while to shift from mentally calling Shiro’s parents "the parents" to "mom and dad".

Even when all was said and done, adoption papers signed and all, he’d still say "thank you, Mrs. Shirogane" and "okay, Mr. Shirogane". It was something ingrained in his mind, from years spent in the system: don’t get attached. One day, you’ll wake up and your social worker will be at the door, ready to send you to the next home.

To Keith’s ever-continuing surprise, years passed, and the inevitability of being sent away faded further and further into the recesses of his mind. Before he knows it, he’s twelve years old, all awkward limbs and bandaged knees and sleek black hair, and he accidentally says the word “mom” at the breakfast table.

The word is received with an encouraging smile, and he stutters a bit but continues on; maybe he didn’t exactly mean to say it, but from then on, he no longer stops himself.

 

 

He liked his home. There was always food in the fridge, the television had all the good channels, and he always got presents on Christmas and his birthday. Mom and dad fought sometimes, but whenever that happened he’d just put his headphones on and listen to music, or go for a walk.

He liked Shiro, too. He’d never had an older brother before-- a single child before he was in the system, and after that, bouncing from house to house so often that it was hard to form bonds with other children. But Shiro always looked out for him, no matter what. Even if they fought sometimes-- it was nice, knowing that someone always had his back.

When he found out that Shiro was going to college two states away, Keith locked himself in his room and didn’t come out for the rest of the day. (It took a bribe of his favorite chocolate bar to get him to finally open the door for his brother.)

Shiro told him that he wouldn’t have been going to school so far away if the college’s piloting program wasn’t so amazing; he hadn't even expected to get in at all. This was the opportunity of a lifetime for him. Still, Keith didn’t let Shiro leave his room until he promised to Skype at least twice a week, and to be there with Keith when he told mom and dad.

Although Shiro knew he was a boy-- he always referred to him as “Keith” when they were alone, and even took him shopping for more boyish clothes at one point-- no one else did. Not even his parents.

He never pressured Keith to tell anyone else, not even when he got asked things like “are you sure you want your hair that short?” and “why don’t you wear more dresses?”. But Shiro, also known as the only other person who knew Keith was a boy, was going away soon. And Keith couldn’t be the only person who knew. Not anymore.

When he told mom and dad, his hands shook underneath the kitchen table, and his eyes remained resolutely trained on the wall across from him. Shiro didn’t touch him, but Keith could feel his presence beside him like a beacon, and it made things marginally easier.

It… wasn’t as easy to tell them as it was to tell Shiro. They had a lot of questions, for one. Maybe they weren’t _mean_ questions, but they still made Keith tired in a way that he couldn’t put into words.

His parents didn’t kick him out, like a part of him was fearing. They wanted to understand, and he thinks he made them understand; they asked what he wanted them to call him, and he said “Keith”. In response, they promised to try their best.

His father was silent throughout most of this exchange, but when he overheard Keith complaining to Shiro later that week about certain body parts that made him uncomfortable to possess, Keith found a binder waiting for him on his bed when he got home from school a few days later. (When he found it, he couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face for a few minutes.)

So maybe his brother was a six hour drive away most of the time, but he lived in a house where people cared about him and he got to wear his hair short and borrow Shiro’s cologne. It… could be a lot worse.

 

 

Despite the permanency of his home situation, it took Keith a while to make friends. Up until he was around 11 or 12, he avoided everyone his age unless it was absolutely necessary; no need to form a deep friendship only to have it ripped away when he was inevitably transferred somewhere else, after all. Plus, he could only endure so many feminine pronouns used to describe him. Why would he willingly endure more misgendering just to make a friend?

When he entered the eighth grade, though, two things changed: his school, and his perceived gender.

Since “Keith” was not yet his legal name, his mom came in with him extra early on the first day to make sure that all the higher-ups knew to call him that. And yeah, Keith was embarrassed to be seen with his mom for that half an hour or so before classes started, but it was a relief to know that he’d never have to endure responding to the wrong name when being called for attendance ever again.

And yeah, maybe he didn’t pass amazingly well or anything, but the femininity that remained in his features could easily be chalked up to pre-pubescence, and that was good enough for him.

In his first class, he met Hunk: a chubby boy with dark skin and a smile that was way too bright for 8 AM on a Monday morning in a middle school history class.

All Keith could remember thinking was _I want to be his friend_. (He also thought that he was cute, but that was honestly more subconscious than anything else; he’d save the sexuality crisis for a later date.)

Keith chose a seat next to him when he walked in, hoping that their proximity could eventually lead to friendship (though at the same time not willing to directly speak to him first, because that required an amount of courage that he frankly didn’t possess). His minimal amount of effort was apparently enough, since as soon as he sat down, the boy turned in his seat to face him.

“Hey, are you new?” he asked. “I haven’t seen you around before.”

Keith nodded. “Yeah,” he replied simply, internally cursing his underdeveloped interpersonal skills. Still, his one-word answers didn’t seem to deter the boy across from him; if anything, they only made him talk more.

“Oh, cool! I heard people saying how there was a new kid this year,” he stated. “What’s your name? I’m Hunk. Well, I mean… that’s not my _real_ name, but it’s what everyone calls me. Nicknames kind of just stick, you know?”

“I’m Keith,” he said, and it dimly registered in the back of his mind that it was the first time he’d said his name in a way that also wasn’t simultaneously outing himself. For all anyone else knew, Keith was the name his parents gave him, and his male-ness was an unquestioned fact. (He didn’t smile at this thought, though it took considerably more effort than usual to keep it from showing on his face.)

“Sweet!” Hunk replied enthusiastically, and Keith had a feeling that one-word exclamations of excitement were a large part of this boy’s vocabulary. But that’s all he had time to say, since at that moment, the last bell rang, and their teacher stood up from her desk and walked to the front of the room.

“Don’t get used to those seats,” was the first thing she announced to the class. “The seating chart is done in alphabetical order.”

That was the day Keith learned that Hunk’s last name was Garrett, which was evidently nowhere near Shirogane on the class roster. History was the only class he shared with Hunk, and being seated on opposite sides of the room put a pretty big damper on their potential friendship. Still, he was always nice to Keith whenever he saw him, saying hi and waving to him when they’d pass in the halls. He was usually accompanied by a very lanky girl with short hair that was all limbs; evidently, she’d already hit her growth spurt.

When ninth grade rolled around, though, it was apparent that he was very, _very_ wrong about one thing.

On the first day of high school, he spotted Hunk and waved hello, noticing that the tall, soybean-esque girl he’d hung around with all of last year had been replaced with a boy who looked extremely similar. And that’s the exact moment he realized: this was the same person from last year.

He was a boy all along, but now a little more visibly so; girlish wardrobe evidently traded in for snapbacks and baseball tees, the lines in his face a little sharper.

 _He’s like me_ , Keith registered in a daze. _He’s trans_.

He was so blindsided by getting to meet another person like himself that he completely missed the way that the features on Hunk’s friend’s face turned sour. He didn’t process that the glare was for _him_ until the boy was suddenly a lot closer than he’d been ten seconds ago, just on the edge of Keith’s personal space bubble.

“What are _you_ looking at?” he sniffed dismissively. “Yeah, I look different now, and if you’ve got a fucking problem with it then you can _try_ to kick my ass, I dare you! I’ll kick yours first!”

Keith was too stunned to say anything in response, though the only change in his features that occurred were raised eyebrows. The boy, in turn, narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, so you think you’re too cool for me, huh? Well… whatever!” He shook his head and walked back towards Hunk (who looked very much like he wanted to be Literally Anywhere Else at the moment), and Keith could swear he heard the word "transphobe" muttered under his breath.

Of all the things that could’ve happened on his first day of high school, being called a transphobe was probably towards the bottom of the list of things he expected to happen. But before Keith could correct him, the boy had already stormed off, and-- it wasn’t as if he was going to out himself to the entire school to make things right.

So he stayed quiet.

Even when the boy ( _Lance_ , he learned, when he’d shouted the name from the back of the classroom before the teachers even had the chance to utter his deadname) ended up being in three of his classes, Keith didn’t correct him. So, this meant that most of his freshman year was spent being on the receiving end of Lance’s nastiest glares.

Leave it to Keith to be on such terrible terms with the only other trans kid in school.

 

 

Thankfully, despite his botched attempt at befriending Hunk (and the _abysmal_ attempt at befriending Lance), he didn’t stay entirely friendless in his freshman year.

A few weeks into the school year, a new family moved into the house across the street. And since his mom was frankly one of the nicest people that Keith knew (though it wasn’t like he would readily admit that), she bought a chocolate cake from the supermarket and brought it, along with Keith, over to meet the new neighbors.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she told him on the short walk over. “Besides, I heard they have two kids, and one of them is around your age.”

She told him this fact as if it was supposed to make him feel better, when in reality, kids his age had generally proven time and time again to not like him very much. Still, for his mom’s sake, he tried to be optimistic (emphasis on _tried_ ).

When they knocked on the door, they were greeted by a couple who introduced themselves as the Holts, immediately inviting them inside. Mr. Holt told him that Katie was probably upstairs, and Keith assumed that this was the “kid his age” that he’d heard so much about.

He weighed his options. He could go upstairs and have what would be, in all likelihood, a really awkward and forced conversation in some stranger’s bedroom. Or he could listen to adults talk about really boring stuff and occasionally ask him about school, since that was the only thing that adults seemed to care about when talking to people his age.

 _I’m probably going to regret this_ , he thought to himself as he ascended the stairs and headed towards the only open door.

When he walked into the room, he spotted a tiny girl with long dirty blonde hair that was tied up into a bun. She was standing on a step stool and attempting to put up a poster-- Keith immediately brightened when he saw the words “I want to believe” in block letters.

“Do you need any help with that?” Keith asked. She looked over at him with what was probably too much nonchalance for someone who had just spotted a stranger in their bedroom.

“Nah, I’ve got it,” she replied, sticking in one last thumbtack before stepping down. “Who are you? You live next door, I’m assuming?”

“Across the street,” Keith corrected. “I’m Keith.” he paused, glancing up at the poster that Katie had just put up. “You like _The X-Files_?”

“I’m Katie,” she replied. “and I _love The X-Files_.”

(Looking back, he thought his friendship with Katie was probably the most effortless.)

They talked about The X-Files and aliens and even so-called “legends” (they both scoffed at that word, because Bigfoot was _real_ , obviously). He helped Katie put up the pack of glow-in-the-dark stars she had off to the side, and their conversation topics slowly shifted to more personal stuff.

He learned that Katie was a year younger than him, and also that he could call her “Pidge”, since that’s what all her friends had always called her. (He internally brightened at the word "friends" being applied to him, like it was a group he actually belonged to for once in his life.) She was also going to be starting at his high school soon, since she was a full grade ahead of where kids her age were supposed to be.

After a few hours, Keith and his mom had to leave, but him and Pidge exchanged numbers and promised to hang out again soon. And as he walked across the street to his own house, he found himself uncharacteristically hopeful.

It didn’t take long for him to consider Pidge his best friend (though he still had no idea why that, of all things, was her nickname). Once she started at his high school, they’d always sit together at lunch, and usually hung out most days after school.

A few weeks into their friendship, Keith had come out to her over text, and when she replied _dude, I’m trans too_ , the sigh of relief he let out could probably be heard from Shiro’s college two states away.

They became even closer, after that; although, truthfully, that wasn’t exactly surprising. By the end of that school year, Keith could honestly and easily say that Pidge was his best friend. (She was also his _only_ friend, though that specific title sounded far less impressive.)

 

 

One day, when Lance spent an extra few seconds passing by their lunch table just to give Keith a nasty look, Pidge decided to speak up:

“Why does that kid always glare at you?”

“His name is Lance,” Keith stated simply, staring down at his completely unappetizing-looking mashed potatoes. (They were tasteless, for one, and exactly the wrong texture; watery, gooey, and way too smooth. Disgusting.) “And…” He paused, trying to remember what they were talking about. Oh yeah: Lance. “It was a misunderstanding.”

Pidge raised a single eyebrow, once Keith finally decided to look up from his tray of food. “What kind of misunderstanding is bad enough to warrant nonstop daily glares for-- what, the past month? At least?” He restrained the urge to curse under his breath. So she’d been paying attention; best to be completely honest, then.

“He… _might_ think I’m a transphobe,” Keith mumbled.

“ _What_?” she asked incredulously. “But you’re--!” He already knew where Pidge was going with this, so he started preemptively shushing her as soon as she opened her mouth to speak. (Thankfully, she stopped talking before she accidentally outed him to the entire cafeteria--or, at least, everyone within earshot.)

“You know what I mean,” she continued, much more quietly this time. “How could he ever think that about you?”

And so he told her the entire (short, pathetic) story from start to finish.

“Keith?” she said before grabbing a spoonful of untouched mashed potatoes off of his tray and shovelling it into her mouth.

“Yeah?” he countered, making a face at her.

“You,” she said around a mouthful of soggy carbohydrates, pausing momentarily to swallow, “need to talk to him.”

“Why should I?” Keith replied. He’d raise a single eyebrow if he could; sadly, his face couldn’t quite move like that, so he settled for raising both. “He’s the one who got way too defensive and wrote me off without thinking about it just because I didn’t say anything!”

“Yes, and you of all people should understand that, Keith.” She pushed her glasses up her nose with a single finger. “Think about it: you’re lucky enough to be at a new school, where you had a fresh start and the opportunity to be stealth. You pass. No one questions it. Meanwhile, from what you told me, Lance has been in this school system his whole life. Almost everyone here knows his deadname, and what he looked like before he started transitioning, et cetera. Don’t you think he has the right to be so defensive about this? He’s just trying to avoid contact with people who aren’t going to respect him. Maybe he was a little hasty with pushing _you_ into that category, but I think he deserves the benefit of the doubt.”

He really, really didn’t want to admit that Pidge had a point, so he crossed his arms and sighed instead. Pidge, on the other hand, brightened at the victory.

“Talk to him after school, okay? I’ll wait for you so we can walk home together afterward,” she said softly. “I just-- I really think you guys could be friends. And you really need another friend besides me, Keith. Someone needs to keep you company while I’m busy hacking into the government’s classified files on cryptids and aliens, after all.” She winked, and Keith involuntarily let out a snort at that last bit.

“Fine,” he relented, finally. “But I can’t promise anything.”

“Can any of us?” Pidge immediately replied. “Is anything real?”

Before Keith could even think of a response to that non-sequitur, the bell rang, so they both reluctantly gathered their things and headed to their next class of the day. This left Keith the opportunity to mull over his thoughts for a while (he was in art class, after all; it wasn’t as if he was genuinely going to make an effort).

He really did hope he could befriend Lance. Pidge was right; it was really nice to have her as a friend, but it would probably be good for him to have more than one. Besides, if he could get on good terms with Lance (somehow), then maybe he could get on good terms with Hunk, too.

And so, as soon as his last class of the day let out, he became a man on a mission, searching through the crowded freshman hallway in an effort to spot Lance.

He actually found Hunk first, leaning against a locker and laughing at something Lance said. He looked over at Lance, only to see that he was laughing too-- Keith’s face suddenly turned slightly pink, but he elected to ignore that.

If it were any other day, he probably would’ve slinked away and disappeared into the crowd of fourteen year olds swarming towards the front door before either of them could spot him. But… he promised Pidge he’d do this, and Keith was usually one to keep his promises. Besides, if everything went wrong, at least there were only three weeks left of school until summer break. He’d only have to lay low until then, probably.

Lance didn’t appear to notice Keith until he was right beside him, clearing his throat. Abruptly, the conversation stopped and his smile soured, corners of his mouth turned downward.

“What do _you_ want, mullet?” he asked, like he barely wanted to acknowledge his existence. And-- well, Keith probably should’ve actually thought of something to say in those few precious minutes it took to walk over here. He could be extremely impulsive when he wanted to be, but he didn’t exactly have a way with words, which is probably why the first thing out of his mouth was:

“I’m not a transphobe.”

Lance actually _snorted_ in response, and Hunk looked like he’d be relieved if a hole opened up in the ground and swallowed him up right this second. “Is that what you came here to tell me? That you’re not transphobic even though you stared at me like I was some kind of _freak_ on the first day of school and thought you were too cool to talk to me? Fuck off,” he said, loudly slamming the door to his locker.

“I-” Keith started, but he didn’t get very far before Lance interrupted him.

“What part of ‘fuck off’ don’t you understand?” he replied snippily. He started to walk away, and Keith took a second to survey the area around him; emboldened by the empty hallway, he shook his head and sped up his pace to catch up to Lance and Hunk.

“Could you just-- listen to me? For one second?” Keith said as soon as he was next to Lance again.

“Why should I?”

“ _Because I’m trans too, asshole!_ ”

That-- isn’t exactly how he wanted to tell Lance, but it managed to get him to stop dead in his tracks. Before Lance could even say anything else, he kept talking, not wanting his time to explain to be taken away from him.

“I was staring at you because I was shocked that I wasn’t the only trans guy in this school,” he continued, voice a little quieter now that he’d gotten his exclamation out of the way. “And in case you couldn’t tell? I’m pretty awkward! Which is why I didn’t know what to say when you came up to me! Look, I get why you reacted the way you did but-- I wanted to set the record straight before you decided to hate me forever, or whatever.”

Truthfully, that was about as much as Keith could handle saying right now. He turned around and started walking in the opposite direction, headed off to the library where he knew Pidge would be waiting for him--

“Keith! Wait,” he heard from somewhere behind him. He raised his eyebrows in surprise, but he turned around. (Also-- it took him a second, but then he realized: Lance knew his name. That was unexpected.)

Keith didn’t know exactly what he expected the boy to say next, but it definitely wasn’t: “Hunk and I are gonna go get pizza and play some video games at his house. Wanna come?”

It took him a few seconds to process what he was being asked.

“Um… yes?” Keith replied carefully, like he was afraid that if he breathed the wrong way Lance would say that he was kidding and end up laughing at him. “Can my friend Pidge come too? I was going to hang out with her after school. She’s waiting for me in the library.”

“Awesome! More people for me to wreck at Mario Kart,” was miraculously the only thing that Lance said in reply. (If he weren't still in shock, Keith would've probably replied: _You clearly don't know Pidge_.)

The three of them walked over to the school’s library, and Pidge smiled at Keith as soon as she spotted the three of them, a look of smugness hidden behind her glasses.

Later, when the four of them were at Hunk’s, bellies full of glorious carbs, Lance nudged Keith with his leg. They were both sitting on the floor while Hunk excitedly showed off his new computer to Pidge, the two of them off in another room.

“Hey,” he said softly, once he got Keith’s attention. “I uh-- I just wanted to say I’m sorry. For judging you too soon and all that.”

Keith shook his head. “You don’t need to apologize. Really,” he insisted, though his voice was just as low as Lance’s. “You were just trying to avoid transphobic assholes, and you thought I was a transphobic asshole. I get it.”

Lance shrugged. “Still doesn’t make me feel much better,” he replied. “I mean-- we could’ve been friends this whole time! Hunk always liked you, so… we could’ve not been enemies the entire year, y’know?”

“Well,” Keith said, nudging his sock-covered foot against Lance’s. “We could start that whole ‘being friends’ thing now.”

“Hm. Yeah. On one condition.” Lance appeared to become serious all of a sudden, which made Keith swallow nervously.

“Yeah?”

“We’re not gonna do that cliched movie thing where we ‘start over’ and reintroduce ourselves. It’s tacky.”

Keith laughed, relieved and amused all at once. “Deal.”

 

 

It took a summer for the four of them to transition from being classmates to a bonafide group of friends.

Of course, ultimately, the closest among them didn’t change; Hunk and Lance were still best friends, as well as Keith and Pidge. Still, the four of them started hanging out more often than not, finding shared interests among each other. Hunk and Pidge bonded over their mutual love of science and technology; Pidge and Lance shared a mutual addiction to video games, especially RPGs; Hunk and Keith both had a similar taste in music.

Admittedly, it took Keith and Lance a little longer to find common ground. On the surface, the two of them were polar opposites: the fire to the other’s water, clashing more often than they harmonized. Still, in time, they grew to genuinely enjoy the other’s company.

Each time they would spend time together, they’d learn piece by piece how they were closer than they’d thought to being one in the same; both brash and opinionated one way or another, intelligent and trusting to a fault with speaking voices that grew louder the more passionate they felt. They shared common interests, but their likes and dislikes weren’t so cut and dry. For example, they both loved the video game _Dragon Age_ , but though Lance liked other RPGs like _Mass Effect_ , Keith could never get into them. (Overall, Keith preferred classic video games and Lance preferred newer ones.) The Smiths were Keith’s favourite band, and Lance hated them, though he did like Keith’s second-favourite band, Modern Baseball, because Hunk had showed him some songs. Lance’s favorite soda was Dr. Pepper, which was Keith’s least favorite, and Keith’s favorite soda was Mountain Dew, which was Lance’s least favorite.

Keith learned a lot about Lance that summer, but the most important fact of them all was that, despite their differences, Lance was a kind and loyal friend.

He wished he’d learned that sooner.

 

 

Keith found out he was gay when he was fifteen.

Well, to clarify: it’s not like that was the first time he’d found a boy attractive. Looking back, that had actually happened many, _many_ times, but-- this was the first time he was consciously aware of it, the first time he looked at a boy and thought, “Fuck, I want to kiss him”. This thought was immediately followed by, “Fuck, I’m gay, aren’t I?”

The boy in particular wasn’t very special; Keith had just been watching a movie with Pidge, and the lead was… well, attractive. As soon as Keith consciously processed his thoughts on the subject, he immediately stood up from the couch and walked into his room, closing the door behind him.

It was like finally solving a puzzle where he’d previously gotten everything except a few tiny pieces in the corner to come together; this wasn’t his entire life being realized or anything, but some bits of knowledge definitely fell into place. He was gay, and that made a few other things finally make sense to him.

This wasn’t so much a gay panic as it was a gay realization, followed by an immense amount of anxiety when he realized that this tiny fact about himself could lead to other people doubting his transness. Oh _god_. Okay, fuck it, he was panicking.

Just when he thought he was actually going to pull his hair out, his phone lit up with a text message from Pidge.

_you okay in there, emo boy?_

He had no idea what to type, how to properly sum up the mixture of enlightenment and terror he currently felt, so he just sent the first thing he could think of: **i’m gay**

Well. That was one way to say it.

_congrats? that doesn’t answer my question_

**no.**

_wanna talk about it?_

**…**

**five minutes.**

_okay._

He didn’t leave his room until it was clear that the five minutes he’d been referring to had long since passed. By the time he sheepishly entered the living room, the credits were slowly sliding down on the television screen, and Pidge looked up from her phone.

“Do you need me to listen, or do you need me to tell you everything’s okay?” she asked softly, sliding over on the couch so that there was plenty of room for Keith. He reluctantly sat down beside her, crossing his left leg over his right knee. “I’ll be honest, I’m a lot better at that first one than the second one, but I solemnly swear to try my best.”

“Both,” he said after a few seconds had passed and the air was empty of everything except the sound of their breathing and soft music playing at a low volume while the credits rolled.

He talked about everything he’d been thinking about for nearly the past hour; the realization, the pieces clicking into place, the immense horror and anxiety he currently felt. She didn’t say anything until it was clear that he was done talking, appearing to choose what she was about to say very carefully.

“Well, for starters: it’s going to be okay. Breathe,” she said, and despite how stupid and cliche Keith felt in that moment, he listened, drawing in a deep breath and exhaling seconds later. “It sounds like you still have a lot to think about. Just-- you don’t have to face all of your fears all at once. You don’t have to tell your parents, or Shiro, or even Lance and Hunk right away.” He swallowed deeply as soon as he registered the word ‘Lance’, though he wasn’t about to put any thought into that when his brain already had enough trouble processing the absolute clusterfuck that was everything else.

“Give yourself time to think about it,” Pidge continued, and it was hard for Keith to believe that he was currently receiving sage advice from the girl who once tried to see how many lollipops she could fit in her mouth at once. (The number was surprisingly high.) “And remember-- if you explain it and people still say mean and ignorant shit, then they don’t deserve you. At all.”

He didn’t know what else to do but hug her, so that’s exactly what he did, somewhat awkwardly bringing his arms to wrap around her shoulders. After a shocked second or two, she returned the gesture, patting him on the back a few times before they both let go.

(Keith and Pidge generally weren’t big on the whole ‘physical affection’ thing.)

“Thanks, Pidge,” he said, voice low and soft.

“It’s my job, as your best friend,” she replied with a laugh. “Now, could you pick something else to watch so we’re not just obediently staring at white scrolling text on a black background?”

It didn’t hit Keith until a full minute later, after he’d picked a random episode of _Cutthroat Kitchen_ to watch, that she’d referred to him as her best friend for the first time.

A smile slowly spread across his face at the realization of it. Despite the terror and anxiety lurking in the back of his mind, he felt... okay, for once. Maybe it wouldn’t last, but the reminder that throughout all of this, he had a best friend-- it gave him a measure of comfort, something he wouldn’t have otherwise had if he were going through this alone.

Besides-- if he could handle everything else that’s happened in his life so far, he could handle this.

 

 

In comparison, it took Keith a while to realize how cute Lance was. (On a conscious level, anyway.) It was… complicated, because he’s always had this weird, _different_ feeling around Lance that he didn’t quite have with the others; an otherworldly magnetism that lingered in the air between them even when doing mundane things like lounging around in Keith’s basement and playing video games.

But then they were seventeen and Lance’s voice dropped and he started wearing these tank tops that showed off his arms and-- it clicked all at once, like that time he realized his sexuality midway through _Guardians of the Galaxy_ : he was gay as fuck, though this time it was for Lance, specifically.

They had both started T around the same time last year, but Lance got all the cool stuff like more muscle definition and a deeper voice while Keith got this awkward facial hair that he felt the need to compulsively shave off every other day and a voice that, while deeper, cracked more often than not. At first, he thought that the reason he was staring at Lance all the time was because he wanted to be him, but-- when he described his first kiss with a girl named Nyma from his trig class, he had this ridiculous, irrational thought that it should’ve been _him_ that Lance was kissing instead.

Keith wasn’t an expert, but this was probably more than just simple envy.

But life didn’t stop because of this realization; time ticked on, and he still saw the boy he was slowly starting to consider a second best friend almost every day-- whether it was to grab milkshakes from various drive-thrus after school and complain about life, or to study for the inevitable test they had every goddamn week, or to marathon some show on Netflix that they probably only picked so they could both make fun of it. The point was, he still hung out with Lance all the time, and the only thing that changed was the way his gaze lingered on his lips if he didn’t catch himself and the almost uncontrollable urge he had to be close to him whenever possible.

Even so, he apparently wasn’t being as subtle as he thought. One day it was just him, Pidge, and Lance sitting at their usual table for lunch-- Hunk was at home sick, or so he said-- and Lance got up and left to buy some cookies. Keith… well, truthfully, he was probably staring at Lance, but he thought he was being somewhat covert about it, looking like he was zoned out and not paying attention rather than following Lance with his eyes as he made his way across the cafeteria.

“Oh my god,” Pidge suddenly said. “You have a crush on Lance.”

The worst part, he thinks, is the way she said it. She didn’t exclaim it, like she just saw a leak online of the next _Overwatch_ character or something. She didn’t ask it, either; not in a curious way, or even in an annoying I’m-just-asking-to-prove-I’m-right kind of way. No, she merely stated it like she would any other scientific fact; the way she might say “the force of gravity on earth is 9.8 meters per second” or something else that was equally and unarguably true.

“Shut up,” he replied, though he didn’t bother to deny it; Pidge had reached the conclusion on her own, and he knew from experience that nothing he could say would sway her now.

“Fine,” she allowed. “But we’re talking about this after school.”

“We _aren’t_ ,” Keith interjected, “because I’m skyping with Shiro today.”

Skyping with his brother was a tradition that he had (mostly) upheld ever since Shiro had left for the Garrison. Originally, they would call twice a week for hours on end, but that proved to be a bit of an unrealistic goal due to how much work started piling up once school started (more so for Shiro). Over time, their twice-weekly Skype calls shifted to once a week, sometimes more and sometimes less. Now that Shiro was in his last year of school, Keith was excited that he soon wouldn’t have to rely on Skype calls and the rare visit on holidays to see his brother. Unfortunately, it also meant that his workload was piling up even more so than usual; he actually missed their usual call last week in order to finish a fifteen page paper, so Keith would be damned if he missed out on talking to his brother this week.

“Fine,” she corrected. “Text me afterward and I’ll come over.”

“Fine,” Keith parroted.

(He wasn’t going to text her.)

As soon as he got home from school, he went straight to his room and sat down in front of his computer. When he opened up the Skype program, his cursor hovered unsurely over the blue call button for a split second, but he shook himself out of it and pressed down on the icon.

Right now, Keith was hyper-aware of the fact that he had yet to come out to Shiro about being-- well, at the very least, _not straight_. His brief yet impactful conversation with Pidge had been replaying in his mind over and over again for the rest of that day, and he didn’t know if he’d have the courage to tell his brother about Lance, but at the very least, he could tell him the other thing. The sexuality thing.

He couldn’t be a hundred percent sure that Shiro would take it well, but out of everyone in his family, he was definitely going to be the most understanding.

Shiro picked up after three rings, and despite the bags under his eyes that Keith could see even through the filter of his shitty webcam, he still had a smile on his face.

“Hey, kid,” he greeted, taking a sip from a mug that said _World’s Greatest Brother Who Is Also An Astronaut_ on the front in big, looping letters. (Keith had had it custom made; he’d always had a penchant for tacky, weirdly specific items like that. Shiro didn’t exactly share the sentiment, but he loved his brother enough to humor him.) “How’s it going?”

“First of all, I’m not a kid,” Keith replied, though after being called by the nickname for years at this point, it was a rebuttal made more out of habit than actual spite. “Second of all, when’s the last time you slept?”

“Uh,” Shiro replied simply, appearing to do some mental gymnastics in an effort to answer what should’ve been a simple question. “Let me get back to you on that.”

“Okay, so at least two days ago,” Keith replied, raising his eyebrows. “You do know that coffee isn’t actually a substitute for sleep, right?”

He sighed. “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.”

Keith snorted. “It doesn’t exactly take Sherlock to notice those bags, Shiro. The aliens on Mars that the government is hiding from us can see them, too. Plus, I know you.”

“Yeah,” Shiro agreed. “Sort of like how I know you, and how I know you’re talking about literally anything so you can avoid bringing up the one thing you actually want to talk to me about.”

Keith cursed under his breath. “How did you know?”

His brother rolled his eyes. “It’s not like I’ve known you almost half your life or anything. Now can you tell me what it is before you over-think and talk yourself out of it?”

Shiro was mostly right; Keith was overthinking, definitely, but not so he could talk himself out of it. He was trying to figure out how to phrase what he wanted to say. Did he want to ask how Shiro felt about trans people who are also maybe sort-of possibly probably gay? Did he want to blurt it out and offer no explanation? Did he want to hang up this call, lock himself in his room, and never come out?

Okay, so maybe he _was_ on the path to talking himself out of it.

“So-- hypothetically speaking,” Keith finally said, his throat feeling suddenly dry. “If I told you I’m, uh-- into guys... how would you take that?”

“Hypothetically,” Shiro replied, face completely neutral. “I’d say that that’s completely fine. Why, are you into guys, Keith?” He asked the last part slowly and calmly, in that big brother sort-of way that he often did.

“Uh… well… yeah,” Keith replied. He looked away from the screen, instead glancing at his hands, which hovered over his laptop keyboard. “I’ve thought about it, and-- I think I might be into them… exclusively? I think I’m gay. Or, well… I _know_ I’m gay, but… I’m afraid of people's reactions. I’m afraid that people will say ‘why didn’t you just stay a girl, then’ or other ignorant shit, and I honestly don’t know if I can handle hearing it.”

He thought he had a relative idea of what Shiro was going to say next, but he definitely wasn’t expecting him to say: “Hey, do you remember me telling you about Allura?”

“Um… yeah,” Keith replied as he glanced back up at the screen, a little taken aback by the non sequitur but still answering the question nevertheless. “She’s your friend, right? And she told you to tell me that she was trans a while ago?”

“Yeah, that’s her,” Shiro replied. “Well, she’s actually a lesbian, and I never viewed her any differently for it. So if you’re worried about how I’m going to react to this, don’t be. Other people might be a little less open minded, but if they don’t come around after you explain it to them? Fuck them. They don’t deserve to be in your life.”

Keith smiled to himself. “Funny. Pidge pretty much told me the same thing when I came out to her.”

“Pidge is wise beyond her years,” Shiro said playfully, and Keith rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, except it’s not so fun when she uses that wisdom to figure out that you have a crush on one of your best friends,” he replied bitterly, expression quickly turning sour.

He knew that look on his brother’s face; like he wanted to say something, but he was doing everything in his power to resist the urge to do it. After a few seconds of silence, Keith heaved a long, drawn out sigh before reluctantly replying, “What is it?”

“Sorry, just... It’s Lance, isn’t it?”

Keith groaned, resisting the urge to bury his face into his arms. “I’d say ‘how do you even know that’, but I really shouldn’t be surprised by these things anymore.”

“Sorry,” Shiro repeated gingerly, like he was about to rip a band-aid off of Keith’s skin. (That’s what it felt like-- metaphorically, anyway.) “But you do talk about him a lot, Keith. And it's way more than you talk about any of your other friends; even Pidge, lately. So I, uh-- had a feeling that might be the case.”

“Well, it’s not like it matters,” he said, crossing his legs in his seat. “He’s never going to feel that way about me.”

“And how do you know that?” his brother replied, sounding amused.

“Because I just _do_ , okay?” Keith fired back. “He’s straight.”

Shiro nodded understandingly. “Oh, so he told you that he’s straight? You must feel really awful; I’m sorry, Keith.”

Keith made a face. “Well-- he didn’t exactly… _tell_ me,” he admitted, linking his own fingers together “But I’m sure that he is.”

“How can you know if he’s never even told you? You can’t be a hundred percent sure that he is or isn’t until you ask him.”

Keith leaned back in his chair and sighed, staring up at the ceiling. “Shiro, the only people he’s ever talked about being romantically interested in are girls. He’s probably not even into guys.” He felt like diving face-first into his bed and never coming back out, but he somehow resisted the urge for dramatics. (God, he’s been spending too much time with Lance.)

“Well,” Shiro replied in a manner-of-fact sort of way. “There’s only one way to find out for sure.” Keith’s ears suddenly perked up; did Shiro have a secret radar for guys who like other guys? Keith knew his brother was bisexual; maybe there was some sort of code or signal or something that he wasn’t in on and Shiro could tell him about.

“Yeah?”

“Ask him,” Shiro said, which in turn prompted a long, drawn out groan from Keith.

“I’ll… think about it,” Keith finally agreed, feeling more emotionally drained than he had in awhile. “Can we talk about something else now?”

Blessedly, Shiro didn’t argue and obligingly changed the subject; from there on out, it was an ordinary Skype call. They talked about trivial stuff, like Shiro’s really mean physics professor and Keith’s latest escapades with Lance. And-- Keith started to notice how much he really _did_ talk about Lance; how it was his first instinct to mention him when people engaged in any sort of conversation with him. He theorized that it was because Lance was the only subject he could talk about for more than two minutes without running out of things to say.

So, all in all, he’d count their Skype call as a success; he came out to Shiro, and he took it better than Keith had ever expected. He didn’t even ask him the weird, slightly insulting questions that he knew their parents would ask when he eventually came out to them, so despite the occasional teasing about his crush… it was good. He was glad he decided to tell his brother.

A few minutes after the call was over, he received a text message from Shiro:

_Hey, I don’t know if I made this clear during our conversation, but I just wanted to let you know that I’m proud of you, little brother. It’s always better to own who you are. <3_

Before he could even begin to think about how he was supposed to reply to that, the door to his room burst open with a slam, and Keith nearly had a heart attack before he realized it was just Pidge.

“What the _fuck_ ,” Keith let out, though it was more of an exasperated statement than an exclamation of any sort.

“I knew you weren’t going to text me,” was all Pidge offered in explanation, and he couldn’t even be mad at her, because she was right. Accepting his fate, he stood up from his computer chair and walked over to his bed, dramatically face-planting into the pillows and letting out a groan.

“If you’re gonna talk, then talk,” Keith said, and it’s a miracle that Pidge understood him when his words were being muffled by this much fabric.

“ _You’re_ the one who needs to talk. About your crush on Lance,” she clarified, as if it weren’t already painfully obvious. “And, by the way, I’m pissed at myself for not realizing it sooner. How long have you had a crush on him, anyway?”

“Almost six months,” he admitted miserably into the pillow beneath him. ( _Probably longer_ , his brain added completely unhelpfully.)

“What was that? Believe it or not, it’s actually pretty hard to understand you when you’re talking into a pillow,” she said, presumably sarcastically.

He lifted his head just enough so that his next words were clear. “ _Six months_ ,” he replied, enunciating both words. Then, he allowed his head to drop into the pillows once more.

“God, you’re both so fucking dramatic,” she complained, though her statement was punctuated with a laugh. “You really are made for each other.”

(He hated the way his heart actually pulsed inside his chest when she said that.)

When she didn't say anything else, he turned his face slightly, ensuring the rest of his words were easy to hear. “Do you have any other questions, or did you just want to stand there and make fun of me for the rest of the day?” He tilted his head just enough to glare over at her.

“The second thing, mostly,” she confirmed, looking way too goddamn satisfied. Momentarily, she paused, walking over to Keith’s bed and sitting down at the edge of it. “But I also wanted to tell you that you’re both nerds and probably perfect for each other. Also: you’re welcome.” She bonks him on the back of the head. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt him; just enough to make him glare and rub the sore spot on his head for a few seconds.

“You two wouldn’t have gotten your shit together without me,” she continued, crossing her legs and smirking triumphantly. “Just thank me in your wedding vows, and we’ll call it even.” That earns her a playful smack to the leg, though she doesn’t even flinch at it.

“I like how you keep assuming that he likes me back,” he deadpanned, finally sitting up and looking at her.

“You might be surprised,” she replied cryptically, nudging him with her shoulder. “Now, do you want to watch _Chopped_ , or not? Because we stopped mid-episode last time, so it was kind-of left on a cliffhanger. I need to know what happens next.”

He tried not to dwell on that mysterious first part too much, instead focusing on the part of the conversation where he got to forget all about Lance and talk about his favorite cooking show.

“I’m gonna be honest… I really want to watch _Forged in Fire_ , but that’s not on Netflix, so I _guess_ that _Chopped_ is fine. Then again, at the end of the day they’re both centered around steel blades, so it’s a win-win situation.”

“Okay, who watches _Chopped_ just for the knives? That’s not even what it’s about!”

“Yes it is,” Keith replied easily. “If it isn’t, then why are they always saying ‘you’ve been chopped, please pack your knives and go’? It’s all about the knives.”

“You’re thinking of _Top Chef_ , but good try.” Pidge patted him on the head, and he scowled.

Their easy banter was a good enough distraction. They managed to get through an entire pizza and four episodes of _Chopped_ , and Keith didn’t think about Lance even once.

Well-- of course, now that he was thinking about the fact that he wasn’t thinking about him… he ended up thinking about him. It’s sort of like when someone says “don’t think about polar bears” and you instantly think of them anyway. Except, instead of cute but probably deadly arctic bears, Keith’s brain was filled with images of his unrequited crush. He thought about Lance sitting next to him on the couch, joining in his trivial arguments with Pidge and laughing that beautiful, contagious laugh of his. In his mind, Lance would get closer every time he moved, whether it was because he was doubling over in laughter or just shifting to get comfortable. At one point, Pidge would leave, and it would be just them left on this worn yet comfortable couch, moving closer and closer until their lips met, eyes slowly fluttering shut--

“Keith?”

“Hm?” he instantly, physically snapped out of it, upper body lifting suddenly in surprise and a light flush of color filling his cheeks.

“Stop being gay for a second and start the next season, will you?”

Keith did as she requested, mentally vowing to pay more attention to the television instead of the ridiculous clusterfuck of a crush he had on Lance.

He was doing pretty well until he spotted a contestant that looked kind of like Lance, making his brain go from zero to a thousand in a second and then promptly right back to square one.

One thing was for certain: he needed to ask Lance if he liked dudes, if only to hear a final and resounding "no" so he could finally lay his ridiculous thoughts and feelings to rest.

(Also, he needed to go back to actually watching this show, because Pidge was catching onto him fast.)

 

 

Before Keith could even think about how he was supposed to go about asking Lance about his sexuality, he ended up letting it slip one day while they were hanging out.

“Anyway, so I said, ‘maybe I could show you around… you know, on a date’. God, you should’ve seen the way he looked at me, Keith!” He stopped telling his story momentarily so he could let out the laughs that he’d clearly been holding in for the past few minutes, shaking his head. “He just goes--” and he suddenly turns stoic, going all wide-eyed in his apparent impersonation of the new kid in his history class, “‘Thank you for the offer, but… no thank you.’” He relaxed, letting go of the ‘new kid’ persona. “And like… you could tell that he was trying so hard to be comfortable, like ‘yeah, a guy’s hitting on me, be cool, Greg. It’s 2017, gays can get married now.’” He laughed again, wiping a tear from his eye. “God, cishet dudes are _wild_.”

Because Keith had about as much capacity for subtlety and nuance as a brick to the face, the first thing he said was: “You’re into guys?”

Lance made a face, clearly not expecting to hear that question from Keith, of all things. “Uh… _yeah_?” he replied. “I’m bi, dude. Did I not tell you? I mean, I’m out to Hunk, and Pidge walked in on me kissing a guy from my art class under the bleachers a few months ago… huh. I guess it never really came up between us. Well… surprise?” He managed a smile.

And because Keith was still in shock (and also apparently not using the handy filter between his brain and his mouth at the moment), the only thing he managed to say in response was: “But I’ve only ever seen you with girls.”

Evidently, that was the wrong thing to say, because Lance was starting to look the way he did the first day that Keith met him. “Well-- yeah? I mean, it’s in the name! Bi means two! Even though the definition’s grown to mean ‘two or more’ nowadays, but… my dating pool doesn’t have to be split down the middle for me to count as bi or whatever, you know! And to be honest... I really don’t have to explain myself to you! Especially not if you’re going to be like… like this!” he vaguely gestured to Keith with both of his hands before throwing them up in apparent exasperation.

And-- yeah, he only just realized how fucking awful that sentence sounded outside of his head. _Way to go, Keith._

“I… didn’t mean it like that,” Keith countered, but Lance looked pretty unconvinced, so he tried again. “Sorry, I’m just-- shocked. In a good way, I swear!” He sighed. “I know that I phrased that whole thing in a shitty way. Just-- look, all I’m trying to say is that… I’m gay, if you didn’t already know. So it’s good to know that you’re more like me than I thought you were, that’s all.”

Despite his clear surprise, Lance recovered quickly. “Our mutual appreciation of other boys is the only thing we have in common, Keith.” Still, his tone sounded more teasing than anything else, and the smile from earlier had returned in full force.

“Not true,” Keith retorted. “Two words: pineapple pizza.”

“Well,” Lance admitted. “...you got me there.”

So, in summary: Lance turned out to be bi the whole time, Keith was currently eating his words while panicking a little (a lot), and Shiro was smug as hell when he informed him as much over text the next day.

This didn’t exactly do a whole lot to help get rid of his crush. As a matter of fact, it did… rather the opposite.

Keith was officially fucked.

 

 

He didn’t tell Lance about his crush, not even when his feelings started getting so deep that it started to scare him a little. But even at his best, Keith wasn’t exactly an emotionally matured and healthy person. One might even say he was emotionally stunted (“one” usually meaning Pidge, in this case); much more prone to suffering in silence than having concise conversations about said suffering. Yeah, maybe acknowledging his feelings and moving on would solidify his friendship with Lance (or show that it wasn’t meant to be after all, if they couldn’t move past this setback), but it was awkward and emotionally draining and _hard_ , and just thinking about it made Keith want to die.

So that wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

He was content to keep his crush a secret until he died (and he was a hundred percent serious about that), no one but Pidge or Shiro ever being the wiser. Feelings? What were those? Keith didn’t know. He didn’t have them.

Apparently, though, Lance himself would prove to be a hitch in that plan.

To set the scene: it was a beautiful day in June, the sun low on the horizon. It was their last summer of freedom before college, and uncharacteristically, Lance and Keith were outside.

Admittedly, it was a nice change from the ordinary. Most of their hangouts as of late had involved them playing _Dungeons and Dragons_ with Hunk and Pidge, since they had recently discovered the game and were a bit hyper-fixated on it.

It really didn’t help that Lance’s character flirted with him almost every time they played. Of course, their characters weren’t them; it’s not like Keith was actually a sea-faring half-elf rogue in real life, but it was growing harder and harder for him to separate in-character flirting from his out-of-character unrequited crush.

It also didn’t help that last night, when they were playing, both of their characters got together.

It truly seemed like an inevitable eventuality; their characters seemed to gravitate towards each other, both inside and outside of the battlefield. In this particular session, Keith’s character had nearly died, sacrificing himself for the team, which had led to Lance’s character kissing Keith’s. (When it happened, Pidge gave him a knowing smirk, which immediately made him kick her in the leg underneath the table.)

He was still reeling over it, even now, which is probably why Lance clearing his throat beside him made him jump.

“So,” he started off, like he was gearing up for some kind of big speech. Keith furrowed his eyebrows, but before he could ask him anything, he continued. “You know how Keiros and Lander are like… together now?”

 _Oh god_ , Keith immediately thought to himself. _Here it comes_. This was where Lance told him that he knew about his crush, because it was _so fucking obvious_. He was probably going to clarify that just because their D &D characters got together, that didn’t mean that he actually reciprocated his feelings, because he _definitely didn’t_ \--

“Yeah?” Keith interjected when Lance didn’t continue. He felt like he was going to throw up.

“Well--,” he said, though he paused again, glancing down at his feet. Keith could see his leg shaking from here; he only did that when he was either nervous or unbearably bored, and honestly, he’d rather it be the second one at this point. “I was just-- fuck, this is so stupid-- I was wondering if you ever… thought about us like that?”

_Don’t get your hopes up, Keith. Don’t get your hopes up, Keith. Don’t get your hopes up--_

“I have,” Keith admitted quietly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “A lot. But I’m sure you knew that.”

“I didn’t?” Lance stated, though it came out like a question. Keith didn’t dare look up at him now. “I didn’t know that, I mean. Like, obviously, I’ve thought about us like that, or I wouldn’t have brought it up at all-- god, why is it so much easier with everyone else? I can ask out the cute girl in my math class without even psyching myself up first but god forbid I talk about this with one of my best friends…”

_don’tgetyourhopesupkeith DON’TGETYOURHOPESUPKEITH--_

“Anyway,” he continued, clearing his throat. “Since you’ve thought about it, and I’ve thought about it… would you want to go on a date sometime? I’m talking about a _real_ date, not ordering Chinese food and living vicariously through our fictional characters.”

If Keith were a computer program, he would have crashed.

 _> keith.exe has stopped responding. Reboot? Y/N_  
>Y  
_> Rebooting…_  
_> Reboot successful!_

“Jesus Christ, _yes_.”

“Oh! Uh… cool,” he responded. Keith looked up just in time to see Lance crack a smile, so he returned it, leaning in closely enough for their arms to touch. “I’m gonna be honest… I wasn’t expecting to get this far.”

“Well, you did,” Keith replied, grin widening. “So you’d better think of a kick-ass date, or our D&D characters are gonna break up.”

Lance gasped, a hand dramatically going over his heart. “You wouldn’t.”

Keith shrugged innocently. “ _I_ wouldn’t. Keiros, on the other hand…”

“Alright, fine, I get it,” Lance replied. He put his hands up in surrender, and Keith immediately reached up to grab one, lacing their fingers together.

“Can I kiss you?” Lance blurted out after nary a second had passed, and Keith laughed before letting out a dramatic sigh.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he stated, placing his free hand on his forehead for dramatic effect. He put it down immediately after he spoke, feeling a bit silly. “I mean, literally, I thought you’d never ask. Up until a minute ago, I thought my childhood crush on Gerard Way was more likely to be returned, so--”

“Hey, not that I don’t love your sudden flair for the dramatic, but… I really want to kiss you, and I don’t want to do that thing where I cut you off mid-sentence with a kiss, so, uh--”

“Yeah. Point taken.” Keith grinned a little giddily, leaning in closer and closing his eyes. And then they were kissing, lips meeting as the red-tinged sunlight filled the sky. The sun was starting to disappear over the horizon, fireflies out in abundance, and Keith and Lance were kissing in Lance’s backyard. It was almost perfect-- or it would’ve been, if it weren’t for the fact that Keith had to stop mid-kiss to scratch at a newly-formed mosquito bite on his leg.

“Inside?” Keith asked with a grimace.

“Inside,” Lance confirmed.

(Later, when he’s applying calamine lotion to his bug bites, Keith can’t help but smile.)

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [tumblr](http://taaagnus.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/taagnitz/).
> 
> also, if y'all like this series enough, i'll write keith and lance's d&d adventures.  
> (i'll probably do it anyway)


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